


Regret and gratitude and all that was unspoken

by tailor31415



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M, STXII, Spoilers, Star Trek: Into Darkness, coda to the medbay scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:25:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tailor31415/pseuds/tailor31415
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock could do nothing but recall the smoothness of glass beneath his palm when all he wanted to feel was the flesh of Kirk’s palm. And he could do nothing but despair that Kirk had asked Spock for help and that Spock had been able to do nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regret and gratitude and all that was unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Contains STXII spoilers  
> Actually my first ST fic, so *crosses fingers* that it isn't terrible
> 
> Chinese Translation Available here thanks to leona0713: http://www.mtslash.com/forum.php?mod=viewthread&tid=89220&page=1#pid1614133

He was awake and alive and there and his eyes were so blue and his skin was so pale and…  
  
And Spock could do nothing but recall the smoothness of glass beneath his palm when all he wanted to feel was the flesh of Kirk’s palm. Spock could do nothing but remember what Captain Pike had felt in those last desperate moments when they had melded.  
  
And he could do nothing but despair that Kirk had felt the same – that he had felt the same and that he had asked Spock for help and that Spock had been able to do nothing.  
  
He clasped his hands tightly behind his back and realized suddenly that Kirk had been calling his name for what had to be several moments, and that the good doctor must have left the room at some point in the interim. “Apologies, Captain,” he replied promptly.  
  
Kirk gave a small sigh, his eyebrows quirking slightly, and he rasped, “Back to Captain then – when I finally got you to call me Jim?”  
  
Swallowing slightly, Spock straightened his back until it seemed to ache and looked Kirk, no, Jim, in the eye. More softly now, he said again, “Apologies, Jim.”  
  
His eyes shut for a moment in reply, and then Jim glanced away down to his hands, resting above the bed covering. He was silent for several moments, and Spock considered taking his leave, for surely it must have been the wrong time to speak as he had, surely their conversation must have been over with their previous exchange. But just as he was about to speak again, Jim tilted his head back up and spoke quietly, “Don’t…don’t do that.”  
  
Spock merely tilted his head slightly to the side in inquiry and waited for the man to continue. “Don’t feel guilty or think you’re at fault or…or…” The blue eyes locked on his and Jim spat out, “Don’t you dare apologize for what happened down there. You did what you had to do and I did what I had to. What I wanted to.”  
  
He could not hold the gaze and had to look away himself this time, focusing his eyes instead on Jim’s shoulder. Watching Jim’s chest shift as the man took a deep breath to continue speaking, Spock instead cut him off with a quiet, “I knew what would happen.”  
  
“And don’t you – what?” he sputtered out, confusion flooding his tone. “You knew what?”  
  
“I contacted my counterpart on New Vulcan and requested information from him of his own encounter with Khan. He informed me what occurred in his timeline, and what the price of Khan’s defeat was in his universe,” Spock replied, keeping his voice level and sure throughout, with great difficulty, “Captain.”  
  
Jim…Kirk was silent for a time then, and there was no sound in the room but the soft whirring and beeping of the medical scanners. Then Spock noticed, with minor distress, that Kirk’s shoulders were shaking. He immediately raised his gaze to Kirk’s face, and noted the smirk gracing the Captain’s lips. Kirk burst out laughing as Spock stared, and he nearly shouted, “That son of a bitch!”  
  
“Captain,” Spock admonished, “He and I share a mother.”  
  
Kirk seemed to ignore him however, muttering to himself about how “the old bastard can’t help but interfere. Couldn’t get a word out of him but he spills it all to you. See if he gets any comms from me for the next year.” He reached up with one hand and wiped at the corner of his eyes and then heaved out a small sigh. Kirk tilted his head back up towards Spock and gave him a small smile. “I don’t blame you and I’m not mad.” When Spock said nothing in reply, merely clenching his hands tighter behind his back, Kirk added, voice so low Spock suspected he was not meant to hear, “and I’m grateful.”  
  
“Grateful, Captain?” Spock asked.  
  
Kirk chewed at his lip for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. “You…you were there.” He stopped again and fiddled with the hem of the blanket in his lap. “You came and you were there and…”  
  
‘I’m scared, Spock,’ he heard again, the words seeming to echo through his thoughts.  
  
Kirk paused again and then he reached out a hand towards Spock. The half-Vulcan noticed that the fingers were trembling slightly and he glanced between the offered hand and Kirk’s face. “Just…” Kirk started, “Just…”  
  
He put his hand in Jim’s.  
  
And the man brought his hand to his face, and he fumbled with trying to shift his fingers into meld positions. “My mind…” Jim started softly, voice wavering and bright eyes fixed on Spock’s, “to your mind…”  
  
‘I was so afraid and then you were there and I wasn’t alone and you understood. And I wasn’t alone, wasn’t alone, wasn’t alone, and that was enough. I wanted this but that was enough.’ Spock was buffered with gratitude and embarrassment and hesitancy and so much of James T. Kirk that he could barely hold his mental shields.  
  
He held tight to his own emotions for a long, tense moment, one in which Jim’s thoughts wavered delicately between fear and anticipation; he held tight to his control because it was all that had kept him standing and thinking and living for the past two weeks. But this was Kirk, whose throat he had held in his hands and whose desperation for life and vengeance had bled into his fingertips. This was Kirk, whose words had thrown him over the edge into a blind rage that he had very nearly failed to escape. This was Kirk, who knew what twisted, dark, human emotions lay beneath his Vulcan facade and still offered up his mind.  
  
And this was Jim, who had sat on the other side of that glass and had reached out for him in desperation for one small bit of comfort. This was Jim, his friend, who he would never deny. So, he lowered his shields and let Jim in.  
  
The overwhelming rush of emotion faded out gradually and when Spock opened his eyes again - and when had they closed? he wondered - he saw that Jim’s were wet with unshed tears and he opened his mouth and…  
  
And he pushed everything towards Jim and watched the tears flood down his cheeks and the man finally shut his eyes so that Spock was free of the gaze that had held him captive and…  
  
And what flowed between them in that moment was enough. It raced back and forth over the meld, amplifying, and filled them both until they were full. Spock shifted to lift his hand away, and Jim reached up and caught it before he could move. “Stay,” Jim ordered, though the word was soft by the sound of tears in his voice. “I…”  
  
And Spock heard the whisper of ‘I don’t want to face the dark by myself this time’ and resolved to never leave this man alone again.  
  
“You are my friend,” he spoke aloud, shifting his other hand to rest on the bed next to one of Jim’s, “So, you may rest and I shall not leave. I shall be here when you awake, as will Doctor McCoy, and you will be well again.” Jim’s hand shifted so their fingers brushed together, and Spock could barely withhold the shiver that threatened to rush through his body at the contact, and he quickly added, “Rest, Jim.”  
  
And so he did.


End file.
